


a glimpse of gold

by notquiteaghost



Series: yogs harry potter au [1]
Category: The Yogscast
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Friendship, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 17:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2819933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notquiteaghost/pseuds/notquiteaghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Hogwarts doesn't get a lot of transfer students.</em>
</p><p> <em>This is mostly because Hogwarts just doesn't have a lot of students, full stop. The magic population is pretty small, and schools have large enough catchment areas that you have to move really very far to have to transfer.</em></p><p> <em>Like, say, across the Atlantic ocean.</em></p><p>In which Strife is an anxious newbie, and Trott is somewhat of a mother hen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a glimpse of gold

**Author's Note:**

> title is from 'army' by BOY.
> 
> this is kinda set in & definitely inspired by [pantsferdinand](http://pantsferdinand.tumblr.com)'s [harry potter au](http://pantsferdinand.tumblr.com/tagged/hfhpau), which has apparently worked some kind of magic on me, i've written more in the past 2 days than the previous 2 weeks. this is my personal strife headcanon, basically.
> 
> & this is in third year, just in case it's not clear in the fic. (i'm not writing these in chronological order) (#yolo).
> 
> **obligatory rpf disclaimer: if your name is mentioned, this fic isn't for you, close this tab thanks**

Hogwarts doesn't get a lot of transfer students.

This is mostly because Hogwarts just doesn't have a lot of students, full stop. The magic population is pretty small, and schools have large enough catchment areas that you have to move really very far to have to transfer.

Like, say, across the Atlantic ocean.

William Strife is the first transfer student Hogwarts has had in just under a decade. He's a third year, just like Trott, and he's a Ravenclaw, just like Trott, and he's moved to England from America, and he's basically all the school is talking about.

Trott kinda feels sorry for him.

"That new Strife kid seems kinda shy, huh?" Ross says at dinner the first day of the new school year and Strife's first day at Hogwarts. "He's in our Charms class and he kinda kept to himself a lot."

"What, like you wouldn't?" Trott replies. "I don't think this place has been this excited about a single student since Harry bloody Potter was sorted."

"Ooo, defensive, are we?" Smith says, teasingly.

Trott glares at him. "He's in my House, so he's probably gonna be in my dorm, so yeah, I'm gonna look out for him. I'm the one that's gonna have to hear it if he cries himself to sleep at night."

"For a minute there, you almost sounded like a nice person."

"Yeah, yeah, go fuck yourself."

* * *

Strife is, indeed, in Trott's dorm. There's way more girls than boys in Ravenclaw in their year, so the girls dorms are full to bursting and the boys nearly have two beds each.

Strife is already sat on his bed, looking over a textbook, when Trott walks in that evening. It's just the two of them - it's still pretty early, not even curfew yet, but Trott wants to go over the work they did in Herbology to see if it makes any more sense the second time round.

Smith and Ross had called him boring when he got up to leave the Hufflepuff common room, but he is a bloody Ravenclaw, so he doesn't know what else they were expecting.

"Hey." Trott says, as the door swings shut behind him.

Strife jumps. "Oh. Uh, hi."

He has an accent Trott has never heard before, and doesn't know enough about America to place. He'll stick out like a sore thumb for it, though, that's for sure.

"I'm Chris Trott." Trott says, holding out a hand. "Call me Trott, though, only my dad calls me Chris."

"William Strife." Strife says, shaking Trott's hand in a way that suggests someone's shown him how 'best' to shake hands. 

Trott drops down onto his bed and kicks off his shoes. "You settling in alright? Hogwarts living up to your expectations?"

"Well, I, uh. It's a lot smaller than Sa-- than what I'm used to."

That's an interesting slip of the tongue, and it only makes Trott even more curious.

"Really? I didn't think American schools were that much bigger."

"Hogwarts is the smallest school of magic by a large margin." Strife says, quickly. "It has by far the smallest catchment area - the school I went to in America is roughly the size of all four European schools combined."

"Huh." Trott says. "Thinking about it, that makes sense, I know America is bigger than here. I guess I just hadn't thought about it before. That weird, then? There being less people?"

Shrugging, Strife says, "The smaller class sizes and smaller dorm rooms are nicer. But everyone seems to know everyone. It sort of feels more like a small town than a school."

"You mean, everyone's a giant gossip, and you're new and shiny so they're all gossiping about you."

"Yeah, I guess. I should've expected it, really."

Trott makes a dismissive noise. "Nah, they all need to learn to butt out. I mean, I get it, it's exciting and you're an unknown quantity, but there's limits, y'know?"

Strife nods.

"And, like. You're a Ravenclaw, so it's not _that_ surprising, but you're still alone in your dorm three hours before curfew, so. If you're shy, or whatever, just stick by me, yeah? I'm ace at hexes, I'll protect you."

"...Really?"

Trott rolls his eyes. "Why do I always get the ones with an inferiority complex, Christ. Yes, really. You seem like good people. And if you're not, we sleep in the same room - I can make your life hell easy."

Strife nods again. He looks slightly taken aback. Trott often has that affect on people.

It's all Smith's fault - he wasn't nearly as brash as this until they became friends, spent too much time together and Trott forgot how to filter himself.

Strife doesn't say anything else, so Trott pulls out his Herbology textbook and gets to work, and they sit reading in companionable silence until curfew.

* * *

The next morning, Trott walks Strife to breakfast.

They don't talk about it - Strife is already up and hovering awkwardly in the common room by the time Trott stumbles awake, still adjusting to getting up before midday again. 

"Morning, Strife." Trott says, with a wave. "You going to breakfast?"

"...Yes?" Strife says, and then follows Trott to the Great Hall.

And stops again in the doorway, when Smith waves Trott over from their customary spot halfway down the Hufflepuff table. Trott rolls his eyes.

"You can sit with us, don't be a twit."

He doesn't give Strife time to reply before he starts walking, so Strife ends up trailing behind him again. It seems like something that's going to happen a lot.

Several heads turn to watch them as they cross the Hall, and Trott makes sure to glare at as many of them as he can until they look away again. Nosy bastards.

"Smith, Ross, this is Strife." Trott says, sitting down beside Smith. Strife hesitantly takes a seat beside Ross. "Strife, this is Smith and Ross, my two best mates. They don't bite much."

"Has Trott adopted you _already_?" Smith asks Strife. 

"He's got this nasty habit of collecting people." Ross adds.

"If he decides you're friends, then that's it. You're doomed."

"It's like he thinks he's the protagonist in some coming of age novel."

"I hate you both." Trott says, glaring. "Have I mentioned that lately? I really, really hate you."

"Aww, Trott, you say the nicest things!"

"Yeah, Trott, you're too kind."

Trott turns to Strife. "Ignore these two, they're twats and I have no idea why I keep them around. We don't have to be friends if you don't want, I'm not gonna make you. I just thought you'd rather not eat breakfast alone."

"I would." Strife says, quickly.

"Great!" Trott replies, grinning. "Consider it a standing invitation."

* * *

By the end of their first week back, the excitement about Strife has died down, for the most part. Strife is still quiet and withdrawn, but Trott is starting to think that that's just how Strife is.

By the end of their second week back, Strife's settled in well enough that Trott doesn't feel the urge to walk him absolutely everywhere, though he still wants to hex anyone who so much as looks at him wrong.

By the end of their third week back, Trott has walked into their dorm to find Strife reading a textbook and looking anxious nearly every single day, and it's starting to worry him.

"Hey, Strife?"

Strife looks up from the Potions textbook he's currently poring over. "Yes?"

"If you need any help, you can just ask." Trott says, then, when Strife's face shutters, hastily adds, "I mean, not that you do! I'm not saying anything about, I don't know, your intelligence or your ability or whatever, just-- I'm guessing the curriculum at your old school was different. And the teaching style might have been different. And, so, if you need help, it's completely understandable."

Strife doesn't say anything for several moments, just stares at Trott, his expression unreadable. And then he clears his throat, drops his gaze back to his textbook and says, "Thanks, but I'm fine."

Trott sighs internally. Should've known it wouldn't be that easy.

* * *

Trott doesn't want to push Strife. He knows from experience that won't help. Strife has to meet him halfway, that's how people work.

It's taking far longer than he'd like for Strife to get there, though.

"I keep offering, and he keeps refusing! Like, I know he's struggling, he knows he's struggling, it's not exactly hard to pick up on - why won't he just let me _help_?"

"Because he doesn't want to owe you? Because he doesn't quite trust you yet? Because he doesn't want to admit he's struggling? Because he's worried you'll laugh at him, or insult him, or give up on him?" Smith lists off easily, one eyebrow raised.

They're sat in the Quidditch pitch stands, even though it's starting to get too cold to just sit outside for no reason. It's Thursday, which means it's Hufflepuff Quidditch practice, and Smith and Trott can use 'moral support' as an excuse to have conversations somewhere it's pretty much guaranteed no one will overhear them.

"Maybe if you offer, he'll listen. One insecure idiot to another. You can bond."

Smith sticks out his tongue. 

Trott sticks out his tongue back, then runs a hand through his hair and sighs. Smith pulls him closer, so his head is resting on Smith's shoulder, and the physical contact is as inexplicably reassuring as ever.

"You'll get there, mate." Smith assures him. "You're the most stubborn bastard I know, you'll wear him down eventually."

"You sound pretty confident."

"Well, it worked on me, didn't it?"

"I made you hate me."

"And then you learnt from your mistakes, and now we're best friends. Just be quiet, you can't win this argument. You're gonna succeed in everything you do and nothing can convince me otherwise, the end."

Trott huffs a laugh. Smith wraps an arm around his waist, pulling him even closer, and they lapse into silence as they watch Ross dart around the pitch below.

* * *

It's halfway through November by the time Strife actually admits to needing help.

Trott almost wants to throw a party.

"I don't understand the Charms essay." Strife says, apropos of nothing. They're in the library, more studying at the same table than studying together. It's been two whole months since Trott first offered his help, almost to the day.

"What don't you get?" Trott asks, immediately, and listens as Strife goes off on a rant about differences in terminology, and how Charms at his old school didn't go into nearly this much depth on theory, and he has no frame of reference for half the stuff they're learning, and everyone else has this background he doesn't and he keeps tripping up on stuff everyone else learnt two years ago and it _sucks_.

When he's done, Trott stands up and fetches the Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, then sits down next to Strife and says, "Right, so the key thing to remember about Charms is that most of what Flitwick says is irrelevant bollocks."

Strife laughs, surprised, and Trott grins. This'll be easy, he's sure - he's already talked Smith through Charms, and he started acquiring a small stream of lower year students tentatively asking him for help halfway through second year. He's _good_ at this.

He grabs a quill, opens the book to the first chapter and starts to talk Strife through basic Charms theory.

* * *

From then on, it's easy. Strife admits to struggling at least a little bit in all of his subjects except Transfiguration and Astronomy, so Trott tutors him in Charms and DADA, with occasional assistance from Ross in DADA; Smith tutors him in Potions; and they get Lalna, a fellow Ravenclaw, to give him help in Herbology, Arithmancy and Study of Ancient Runes.

Strife doesn't come out of his shell, or transform overnight into a glittering social butterfly, or whatever it is that happens at the end of coming of age movies, but he does spend less time reading textbooks and stressing. Which is good. Trott wasn't really expecting anything else.

**Author's Note:**

> i am [here](http://monsterau.tumblr.com) on tumblr. this fic is cross-posted on tumblr [here](http://monsterau.tumblr.com/post/105833240056).


End file.
